


Bar Work

by TheFallofYang



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Fingerfucking, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Smut, Stalking, Unhealthy Relationships, bad language, dubcon, i take requests btw, rick and morty a hundred years, scenes of a slight violent sexual nature, slight elements of dd/lg but very damn slight, this is a bit fucked up but i loved writing it, this is from a tumblr request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 03:19:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11546418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFallofYang/pseuds/TheFallofYang
Summary: You, the reader, have started working at a bar in town to help pay the bills and ease the loneliness living alone has caused. How do you feel when Rick Sanchez starts frequently attending your bar. It doesn't help that you constantly feel like someone, or something, is watching you.





	Bar Work

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Rick and Morty, I just like writing about it. I also do not condone the behaviour in this fics outside of a consensual fantasy. Always wait for consent and always have a safe word. If you don't you're a gross person and you need to be in prison. Thank you!

“This fucking job isn’t worth my fucking time” you grumble to yourself, wiping down the sticky bar as men leer at you across from it. You’d only been working at the bar part time for a few weeks and already you regretted it.  
  
As a teenager, most people expect moving out of their parents’ house and into their own would be great. A great feeling of independence, where you can do what you want, watch you want and eat what you want with no one nagging you.

The truth of the matter is, when you finally do move out (years later, in debt and struggling to get by) it’s incredibly lonely. You wake up, you work, you go home, eat and sleep. That’s it. The same routine day in day out. No one to talk to outside of work. No one to hang out with. Just yourself, your book’s and your bed.   
  
Sometimes it’s nice. To be able to relax completely without fear of judgement or relatives fighting. But after a few months it gets boring. Your day job at the bank pays you enough to get by, but in all honesty, you could still use a bit more money. So, when you saw an advert in the paper looking for a new bar tender at the “Madison” bar in town, you’d applied. Reassuring yourself that not only would the extra money be a great help, but it would fill up the hours you sat alone in the dark in your empty flat.   
  
You were pouring a few shots for some young women celebrating a birthday when he walked in. Just like that  it was as if your whole world had moved slightly. Not in a “my god this is what love is” kind of way. More in a “I have never seen someone like this what the fuck is happening” kind of way.  
  
He was older, at least in his late 50’s, tall and incredibly skinny. Almost unhealthily so, but even from this distance you could see his coat fit him well. What a coat it was. A bright white lab coat, which strikes you as an odd choice of clothing to wear to a bar. Wild, spikey blue hair sat on the top of his head. Looking for all the world like he’d been jumping through a tornado. You try to watch him as discreetly as you can. There was just something oddly fascinating about him.   
  
You watched out of the corner of your eye as he approached the bar, before he slumped down in a chair at the end. Your faintly disgusted as a small bit of dribble ( “ **It’s bright green** ” you can’t help but think with amazement) runs down his chin. Not wanting to put off the inevitable and also wanting to see what kind of voice belonged to such a strange, yet in the right light handsome, older man, you approached him.

His eyes looked up at you from where his head was lounging against the bar slightly.  
  
“What can I get you?” you ask, using your customer service voice.   
  
“Whisky” came the short answer. His voice was rough. Rougher than you’d expected but it had an attractive quality to it.   
  
“Irish?” you questioned, eager to hear his voice again for reasons you couldn’t even decide.   
  
When he nodded in confirmation (much to your disappointment) you bend over, reaching for the whisky glasses and bottle. Setting the glass in front of him you pour a single whiskey. Just as you were turning away a hand gripped your arm tightly.  
  
Turning sharply to him, gasping slightly, you blushed bright red when you noticed just how intense his stare was. His eyes were dark. You couldn’t tell if it was just because of how bright his hair was or the lighting in the room but those eyes seemed like they couldn’t get any darker. Like a pit you’d have no hope of ever escaping from.  
  
“L-leave, just eh – don’t take the fucking bottle” he murmured, before letting go of you slowly.   
  
You nodded, too scared to speak in case your voice came out shaky. You went back to the end of the bar, happy to leave him with his whiskey. You could still feel his eyes following you though. But by the time you went back over a few hours later to see if he needed anything else, he was gone.

* * *

  
This behaviour followed a pattern for the next few weeks. You came into work and half way through your shift he’d appear. He’d slump down on a stool in your section, you’d bring him some whisky (how he could both drink an entire bottle and AFFORD to drink an entire bottle almost every day was a mystery to you) and by the time your shift was coming to an end he’d be gone. But you’d always, always, feel his eyes on you the entire night.  
  
It made you shiver. Right from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. You weren’t sure if it was because he made you feel creeped out or because he was actually quite handsome, despite the age gap. If you were honest with yourself, you’d spent a few lonely nights thinking about him. Your mysterious customer who dressed like some mad scientist out of “Back to the Future”. You thought about how he might bring you pleasure. Would he make you cum slowly? Like a thunderstorm creeping over your entire body until it suddenly seized with pleasure? Or would he make you cum hard and fast? So quick you’d barely be have time to recover before he used you for himself?  
  
You shook your head, trying to banish such thoughts away. Not only would it never happen but it wasn’t healthy to think of customers like this. You had no idea who he was. All he’d ever asked for was his order and on one occasion when you’d called him sir he’d simply responded by saying,

  
“Name’s Rick sweetie, y-you, eh, you don’t need to call me – you can call me sir later” followed by a startlingly handsome grin. You’d blushed bright red and shook slightly as you watched his eyes follow the blush as it ran slowly down your neck under your shirt. Once you’d turned away, you’d heard him chuckle slightly. After that one incident, he’d never really tried anything again. So you imagined he’d just been fucking with you for the hell of it.  
  
You really couldn’t afford to be distracted anyway. Not by him or anyone. Weird things had been happening to you lately. You’d constantly feel eyes on you, and not just Rick’s at work. When you walked home at night you felt like someone was watching your every move. You’d taken to carrying pepper spray and walking with your keys between your fingers like a make shift blade. You’d feel eyes burning a hole into your neck. But every time you turned to look. Nothing. No one. It didn’t make you feel any better though.  
  
Not only that but you noticed how things began to disappear from your flat. It was small at first. Little things.  In fact you’d only noticed it really when three separate pairs of your favourite underwear suddenly had gone missing. It didn’t help that you lived completely alone.   
  
But work was work and currently you were working a rather difficult, busy shift. A group of young men, no older than 25, had walked in after an exam of some sort and were looking to celebrate. Your usual customers were there as well. Quiet and respectful, but you kept your focus on the young men. They flirted with you, shamelessly so. Usually you’d tell them to fuck off but you needed the tips. You were hoping to install a new security system. To place your mind at ease at least.  
  
So when one of the men (tall, blonde and rather well built but certainly not your type) leans over and calls you beautiful, you grin. You lean forward, making sure to push your chest forward as much as possible. It’s your choice after all and unlikely you’ll see him again. What would a little bit of flirting hurt?  
  
“What can I get you handsome?” you practically purr. You’re never this way with women. You find it easy to flirt with them in a more natural way. But you hadn’t actually had a boyfriend or girlfriend in a long time,  
  
It seems to work on this man though because his grin grows and some of his buddies around him begin to laugh a bit, slapping him on the back.  
  
“Oh I’ll have whatever taste the best in here sugar”  
  
“Well we have quite the selection”  
  
“You on that list? I bet you taste sweeter than anything beautiful”  
  
You laugh at that. A loud, fake laugh that you hope is convincing. His line is clearly rehearsed, more than a little offensive and reeks of being desperate. But you need.those.tips.   
  
Before you can answer however, an almost deafening crash sounds from the other end of the bar. Turning quickly, what you see causes your heart to drop into your stomach and the blood to drain from your face.  
  
It’s Rick. He’s staring at you. No, not staring. Glaring. His dark eyes are narrowed into slits, clearly angry. The glare is so fierce you feel as if you can barely breath. His hand is wet where his glass had clearly been and his knuckles are so white with rage you realise quickly he must have crushed his glass in his hand.   
  
You turn to the back of the bar to get a rag and help clean him up but before you can even turn around again, he’s gone. 

* * *

You call in sick. 

  
You feel uneasy today. You don’t go to your day job and you call the bar at about 1pm to tell them you’re not feeling very well and you need to take the night off. They seem okay with it, seeing as you’d never missed a shift before.   
  
You do nothing all day. Just read, watch some Netflix and cook yourself some food. You’re not really even sure why you took the day off. You just felt weird. Since last night you’d replayed what happened about 100 times over in your head. It was the only evening in weeks you’d walked home without the feeling of eyes on you.   
  
By the time you have dinner and a shower it’s nearly 11pm and you decide to call it a day. Nothing terrible happened thank god, and for once you’re actually quite glad to not only have the day off work but to have spent it alone.   
  
You’re drifting in and out of sleep when it happens. You hear a noise, like something out of a cheap sci-fi film before a blinding green light fills your room. You sit up in bed, gasping and startled by the light. By the time it fades and your eyes adjust to the dark, you see a tall figure towering over you.   
  
Before you can scream or jump from the bed, the figure moves quick as any snake and a rough calloused hand slams over your mouth. The other hand pushes you down onto the bed. This close to you now, you see exactly who it is.  
  
Rick. Rick from the bar. Old man Rick from the bar who dresses oddly and whose handsome self had been plaguing your thoughts for nearly a month. But what you feel now isn’t a flush of embarrassing attraction. It’s fear.  
  
You see him grin in the darkness at your wide eyed expression.  
  
“Didn’t expect – didn’t expect to find me in y-your room, did you” his voice cuts through the utter stillness of the room. When you don’t answer his grip on your jaw tightens. Body shaking slightly, you shake your head.  
  
His body sinks down onto the bed next to you, pinning you down even more. You feel a rush of hot pleasure run straight to your groin.   
  
“God why I am so weird” you think frantically. “This is wrong, this is wrong, this is WRONG”   
  
But it doesn’t stop your body as you feel yourself slowly get wet from the intimate pose.   
  
He shakes your head slightly, snapping at you to look at him.  
After a few seconds of silence his hand leaves your mouth. But before you can even blink he replaces it with his own. It isn’t the gentle kiss of a lover or even a hard kiss of a quick fuck. It’s a rough, dominating kiss. One you’ve never even experiences before. Your teeth clash together as his tongue slips in your mouth, tasting every inch of it. He brings your own tongue back into his mouth before sucking on it hard, causing you to squeak.   
  
You feel his body shake with laughter at that before he pulls away.  
  
“Y-you like that baby? You like it when I touch you l-like this? I bet you fucking – you fucking love it” his voice has managed to deepened somehow and his right hand is running over you breasts. He grabs and paws at them, tweaking the nipples between his fingers and pulling roughly. Your back arches and a moan slips before you can stop it.  
  
“Oh yeah sweetheart, that’s what I like to hear”  
  
His left hand continues to keep your shoulder pinned, a clear warning that if you try to move there would be consequences. His right hand moves from your breast and slowly descends down your thighs. You really wished you’d worn more than just a nighty to bed. As his hand reaches your centre, your breath hitches and your eyes shut.  
  
A sharp slap on your shoulder causes them to open wide again as Rick glares from above you.  
  
“Don’t you d-dare, you, little girl, you look at me when I touch you, got, got – you understand that?”   
  
You nod, not wanting to make him angry. His hand slips between your folds and you let out a breathy moan,  
  
“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet you little slut. You really wanted this huh? Didn’t you? Say it, tell me you want me.”  
  
“I-I want you Rick. Please. I really really do”  
  
He grins, teeth shining white in the dark before his shoves two finger in mercilessly.   
  
You cry out at that. It’s been so long and it stings more than you though it would, despite the fact you could water a fucking maze with how wet you are.   
  
“Mmm you’re tight. Verrrrry tight. You been a good little girl for me huh?  
  
You can’t speak. You feel full with just his fingers. Not that he gives you much time to speak anyway as he sets his pace fast and brutal, clearly wanting you to cum quickly just to give himself that satisfaction that he can do it. That he can just force his way into your flat and make you cum without a second thought.   
  
He crooks his fingers just so and suddenly you see stars behind your eyes. You’re practically screaming now, sweat dripping down your forehead as you cry out into the dark space that is your home. He’s grunting, watching you intensely like you’re some sort of experiment. His thumb begins to stroke over your clit in a hard, almost painful circular fashion. His eyes watching as your blush does it’s own thing and travels down your body. When you cum, it’s hard and borderline painful. You clench around his fingers tight. Like your body is trying to keep him in.   
  
“K-Knew I could get you to scream little girl. Good to see that blush goes everywhere too”  
  
You pant, unable to answer and honest to god confused. You feel scared, aroused and satisfied all that the same time.   
  
You feel him lick the side of your throat roughly before he pulls you up by your hair, bringing you off the bed and onto your knees beside it. He swings his long legs over the side of the bed until you’re between them, face close to the bulge straining against his trousers. He unzips himself, bring his aching cock out stroking it a few times before arching his single eyebrow at you expectantly.   
  
Despite the fact you’re attracted to all genders, you’d always thought penis’s were slightly odd. Not unattractive necessarily but odd in their own way. When you first ever saw one your only thought had been ”Why is this mushroom so aggressive?” before giggling to yourself, immediately offending the person you were sleeping with.  
  
Now though, any funny thoughts were banished from your head as you stared at his huge, aching cock. Pre-cum spilt from the slit, making him almost as wet as you. Knowing what he wanted you brought your head forward before gently licking the tip.

  
The groan of arousal this brought from his chest made you vibrate all over. You felt oddly powerful at being able to make such a man make a noise like that. You wanted revenge for him just bursting in like this, so you decide to tease him. Gentle strokes of your tongue across his dick, never quite hard enough.  
  
You don’t get away with this for long however, as he knows exactly what you’re up to. Within seconds both of his hands grab your hair roughly and force the rest of his cock down your throat. You gag, trying desperately not to panic and to breathe through your nose as begins to fuck your throat raw. Selfishly perusing his own pleasure, any comfort for you set aside.   
  
“Fuck yes baby. Baby, uh, yes, your throat is fucking great. Bet your cunt is going to be fucking magical as well. So fucking good little girl. Take my fucking cock you little shit. Fuck, uh, yes, yes, yes.”   
  
This mantra continues for longer than you anticipated. You can breathe yes, but not without a bit of difficulty. Your throat begins to feel sore and you can feel your dribble running down your chin. That seems to make him harder though. His hands are so tight in your hair you’re surprised he hasn’t ripped a good chunk out yet.   
  
As quickly as it started, he pulls you off of him. His hand slips under your chin to raise you head up so you can look at him. You’re coughing slightly and you breath heavily as you try to gain some composure against the onslaught he just delivered. His hands reach out to cup both sides of you head. He leans down a licks the trail of saliva from you chin all the way back to your mouth before biting on your lip so hard you’re sure it must be bleeding.   
  
He pulls you up and throws you onto the bed. Before you can complain that you’re not a fucking rag doll, his kneels in between your legs and spreads you wide. Anxiety begins to climb within you because you know what’s going to happen now. Despite the fact you know you want it, that you’re happy for this to happen, you can’t shake the feeling that even if you weren’t he wouldn’t have cared.  
  
He spreads your legs even wider, causing your hips to ache in protest. You don’t dare deny him though. Not when he’s this close to you. He leans forward, mouth hovering over your own. His breath smells slightly stale with alcohol but you get the impression it’s normal for him. Especially with the amount he drinks at your bar.   
  
“Y-You ready for my dick baby girl?”   
  
You nod, words failing you.   
  
“Good because I ain’t stopping till I cum deep inside you”  
  
Panic fills you up at those words but before you have time to protest he thrust into you deeply. You cry out in pain and pleasure as his cock stretches you more than you could have ever possibly imagined. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust before he’s thrusting into you at a brutal pace.   
  
Your whole body is shaking now, sweat forming at the side of your head as your mouth dangles open. His hands come up, pinning your wrists above your head. Not allowing you move at all. You simply have to lie there and take his cock.  
  
“That’s it baby, that’s it. You like that cock?” his thrusts are even harder now. So much so you’re sure you’ll be bruised in the morning and you wonder how much harder work will be when you can barely bend over.   
  
“You do, don’t you? You like that old man cock. You think I didn’t see you flirting with that fuck, that, that fucking BOY before? Y-You think you can do that shit in front of me? Well you can’t baby girl. Because you’re mine. My little girl. My little bitch. Mine.”  
  
He practically growls the last word, the force of it vibrating from within his chest like a feral animal. He almost looks like one now. Red faced and manic above you as he thrusts his dick inside you do fast and deep you feel like he may split you in two.   
  
His hands clench around your wrists so hard you know they’ll be marked tomorrow. You imagine this is what he intends to happen.   
  
His breath begins to fault but his thrusts never do. He leans down till your breasts brush against his surprisingly defined chest and he whispers in your ear.  
  
“Been following you sweetheart. Ever – ever since you started working at that bar. C-Cute little thing like you. Knew I had to fuck you. Knew I had to have you to myself. You just kept teasing me with your cute smile and your fucking nice ass. Followed you home. I made sure, uh fuck yes so fucking tight, made sure you were alone. Your panties only got me s-so far though. N-Needed the real thing”  
  
You blink, suddenly every piece of the puzzle made sense. He was your fucking stalker that sick fuck.   
  
As if sensing your sudden anger (most likely it’s the look on your face) he laughs. A loud, belly laugh and thrusts into you even harder. You’re almost scared he may tear something as a white hot pleasure sweeps through you.  
  
“Y-You angry baby girl? Y-You angry that this old man took your wet little panties? Do I look like I fucking care? Well I don’t. Fuck your cunt is so fucking tight sweetheart. S-So fucking good for me aren’t you? Y-You wanna be angry but I’m too fucking good at fucking you wet, tight little cunt. You love my old man cock don’t you? D-Don’t you?  
  
“Yes, fuck, yes okay. Fuck Rick, I fucking love your old man cock” your face is redder than it’s ever been as you practically scream it. It may be fucked up, but you love it more than you’d ever admit outside the bedroom.  
  
“You want me to cum – you want my cum in you, don’t you baby girl? Want me to fill you up till it drips down your thighs. Till you’re so full you could burst and that little fucking jock boy at the bar fucking s-smells me on you”  
  
You sob with pleasure. Every inch of you on fire as you near completion. You want to cum so badly. You need it. You need him to fucking you till you cum around his cock so tight you never want to let him go.   
  
You can tell he’s near the end himself. Sweat drips off of him and onto you as his thrust get deeper, pace still brutal enough to hurt.  
  
“You wanna cum? Should I let you? You’re mine now after all. I-I don’t need to”  
  
“Please Rick, please. Fuck yes, uh, uh, please let me cum on your cock please”  
  
He growls at that before biting the junction between your neck and you shoulder hard. You scream and before you can help it you cum. Harder than you ever have before. You clench down on him so hard it feels like you’re suddenly one body, not two.   
  
He wrenches his head back up and glares at you.   
  
“D-Did I say you can fucking cum you shit? Did I fucking say you could?”  
  
You shake your head, still on a high from your own pleasure. His one brow furrows.  
  
“N-next time you don’t cum until I say, got it? You’re lucky if I let you cum at all. I use you for my pleasure, not the other way round”  
  
You nod this time. Words have failed you yet again. You can’t speak. You fee like you’re barely there at all as he continues to fucking you six ways to Sunday.  
  
“Fuck yes baby. So fucking wet, so tight. Uh, ugh, fuck yes, fuck. Gonna cum baby girl. Gonna cum in that tight pussy. Yes, uh, fuck. Gonna fucking fill you up mmm yes. Shit, fuck, yes.”  
  
He shouts the last word. His whole body still as you feel him spill deep inside you. A small part of you panics, knowing you haven’t used protection. But the rest of you finds it hard to care. You’d worry about it in the morning.   
  
He collapses on top of you. Breathing deeply and panting into the now very quiet room. You both look at each other, not really knowing what he wants you to say. He kisses you again, surprisingly gently before rising from the bed and getting re-dressed.   
  
Before you can say anything to ease the mood, he takes out a glowing gun (honestly does everything he own look like it was out of a low budget sci-fi flic?) and shoots a green portal looking thing in your room. Realsing that was the green glow from before, you simply shake your head and store the information away for later.   
  
He turns to you, looks you up and down before smirking and stating in a very matter of fact tone.  
  
“Don’t fucking skip work again. I like l-looking at that ass pouring me drinks. Y-You do, I’ll find you.”  
  
It’s a statement about more than just work. You know he’s stating that until he’s done or bored with you, you’re his. Running won’t stop that.

He looks at you one last time before entering the portal. Both him and it disappearing once again.

You collapse back down on the bed. Uneasey yet excited for the future. Who knew working at a bar would lead to this?


End file.
